


Stars Fell On Alabama

by kashmir



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-13
Updated: 2007-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/pseuds/kashmir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the American Idol tour, Blake and Chris take a few days for just the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars Fell On Alabama

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by [](http://insunshine.livejournal.com/profile)[**insunshine**](http://insunshine.livejournal.com/). Dedicated to my Lee Lee, [](http://holycitygirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**holycitygirl**](http://holycitygirl.livejournal.com/). Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/caketoberfest/profile)[](http://community.livejournal.com/caketoberfest/)**caketoberfest**.

Blake had booked them in the Island House Hotel under the name 'B. Crocker.' Chris found it only mildly funny but Blake almost couldn't contain his laughter while checking in. Chris let Blake deal with the room details and wondered over to the windows to take in the pool nestled amongst palm trees and bushes and beyond that, the beach and the Gulf, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. Blake came over and bumped his shoulder into Chris, smiling.

"All set, C-Rich. Come on, we're up on the eighth floor." He nodded his head towards the elevators at the front of the lobby and Chris picked up his bags from the floor and followed Blake as he practically bounced over. Blake was a button-pusher, in more ways than one, Chris mused, as he watched Blake press the 'up' button about ten times in as many seconds.

When it finally arrived, they were almost run over by a screaming mob of five children, all under the age of eight, with a harried looking older woman in tow, who mumbled out an apology while trying to contain her rambunctious charges.

Chris chuckled as they got in the car, looking out the window as they rose, taking in the small shopping center across the street. Blake looked at him, eyebrow arched. "What's so funny?"

Chris smiled and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Blake's lips before pulling away, smiling still. "Just... bet you were three times as worse as those kids when you were that age, huh?"

Blake pulled a mock-offended face and then punched Chris in the arm. "Just for that, I'm not blowing you when we get in the room."

Chris was just getting ready to protest when the doors slid open and Blake was out, heading to the right where apparently their room was located. Chris had no choice but to follow him down the curving hall to their door. Blake stuck the key in and turned the knob, pushing and grumbling under his breath when it didn't swing immediately open and Chris stifled a laugh. Blake glared over his shoulder at him and stepped back.

"You give it a shot, Mister 'Big Guns," Blake said, crossing his arms over his chest. Chris took a step forward, snagged the key and slid it in, turning the knob.

Except the door didn't open. Blake grinned smugly as Chris struggled with the door, finally getting it open after some pushing and swearing on Chris' part. Blake pushed his way in first with Chris following closely behind. Blake threw all his bags on the bed farthest from the door and headed right for the balcony, throwing open the door and stepping outside, whooping in the warm air.

Chris sat his bags down beside the armoire holding the television and made his own way out to the balcony where Blake was now leaning against the railing, hands folded together. Blake turned and smiled at him as he stepped out, a hand tracing along the small of Blake's back before he moved to stand next to him, mirroring Blake's stance.

"Fuckin' gorgeous, Chris. This was the best idea you've had in awhile," Blake murmured, the lines of stress and worry that had been so prominent on his face when they'd boarded their flight earlier that day were now smoothed.

Chris smiled and looked out towards the water, watched as some small children splashed each other and ran around in the waves. He was glad Blake had agreed to his suggestion of a few days away before Blake went into the studio to finish up his album, due out in stores in a couple of months. The Idol tour had just concluded the previous week and Chris knew that his suggestion wasn't completely altruistic. He was entirely too used to living in Blake's pockets and wasn't quite ready to let go of that quite yet.

Plus, neither of them was sure if they'd have an opportunity like this again, to steal away, just the two of them with their still relative anonymity (although they still got recognized more than they'd like to think about). Between recording and promoting albums and performing, Chris knew that this time, them at the beach, these few stolen days were just the calm before the storm.

He looked over at Blake and winked. "I have them occasionally."

Blake smiled and shuffled closer to Chris so that their arms touched from shoulder to elbow on the railing. He smiled over at Chris, the setting sun catching the blonde strands in Blake's bangs and highlighting them as his eyes twinkled with amusement and affection.

"Yeah, like falling in love with me." His face was open and teasing and his voice was low, intimate. Chris leaned over and pressed a kiss against Blake's smiling lips.

"That was probably the best idea I've ever had."

...

Hours later, after Blake had blown Chris in the bathroom against the sink and they'd stuffed themselves full of fresh fish at one of the many restaurants dotting the main drag, Blake was laying on the bed, propped against the headboard, glasses perched on his nose as he watched 'Mars Attacks' on TV. Chris popped out of the bathroom when he heard Blake give a particularly loud guffaw, shaking his head when he caught sight of Tom Jones singing on the screen.

He didn't get it but Blake loved that cheesy movie, made him watch it every damn time it popped up on some random cable channel, no matter what. Chris thought it was an okay movie but didn't think it was something that couldn't be missed like Blake seemed to. But he never said anything, content to lie together and watch it, usually with Blake's head in his lap as he laughed at Jack and all the crazy little Martians.

It was just something you did when you were in love, Chris figured.

He finished brushing his teeth and came back out, crawled into the crisp cool sheets, curling up on his side against Blake. Blake slipped an arm around his shoulders tugging him closer. Chris put his arm around Blake's waist and yawned. Blake looked down at him, eyes questioning.

"Tired?" He asked voice low.

Chris nodded, snuck a look at the alarm clock on the night stand. It was barely after eleven o'clock and he was yawning like a damn old man. "Fuckin' disgrace, man. I'm way younger than you and I'm ready to start snoring!"

Blake chuckled and switched off the TV, tossing the remote on the night stand as he turned off the lamp.

"Lots of caffeine, young grasshopper," He murmured, sliding down and twining their legs together. Chris huffed out a laugh and kissed Blake, their tongues rubbing lazily together, mouths tasting like mint and cold, clear water. They pulled away after a few minutes, Blake's thumb tracing lazy circles on Chris' hip through the thing material of his boxers.

Chris was about to lean in to kiss Blake again when he started yawning, causing Blake to laugh and press a kiss to his forehead.

"Less kissing, more sleep, I think," he murmured into Chris' hair.

Chris sighed and nuzzles at Blake's neck, falling asleep within minutes.

...

They spent the next day on the beach, Blake's skin turning a dark pink even with the presence of sun screen. Chris poked him and laughed but made sure he reapplied often, going so far as to rub it into his back and shoulders. They were about twenty feet from the water, sprawled on beach towels, relaxing and doing nothing for the first time in over a year.

Chris was making some headway in the John Grisham novel he'd brought for the trip. Blake had given him shit for it on the way out of the room, teasing him about his mainstream and pedestrian taste. Chris had shut him up by jerking him off against the door, right out in the hallway.

Blake was lying on his right, eyes closed behind his shades, hands thrown up over his head. He was half-asleep, judging by his breathing and Chris smiled to himself. Blake wouldn't admit it but the last year had really taken a lot out of him and he'd needed time to re-charge his batteries. They both had. Chris tried to think in all the time he'd known Blake when he could remember seeing Blake so relaxed and calm and couldn't. He ran a gentle hand down Blake's arm and Blake smiled sleepily.

Chris was only too glad to give these few stolen days to Blake.

...

Two days later, Blake was turning tan and they were cruising down the highway, windows down as they sang along to the newest Maroon 5 single in the rental. They were making a game of counting all the souvenir shops while looking for a place to eat. Chris started to laugh as he caught sight of a sign for the 'Pink Pony Pub.'

Blake looked over and saw, chuckling as he drove. "Think they'd let us play there? One night exclusive engagement! Chris Richardson and Blake Lewis, Idol losers!"

Chris punched him in the arm and laughed harder. "Ass."

Blake pulled his sunglasses down just to flutter his eyelashes at him. "You love my ass."

Chris smiled. "Yeah. I kinda do."

...

They get drunk at the Floribama their last night there and have to take a cab back to the hotel. Blake is all hands and hot, seeking mouth in the elevator and Chris has one tiny, minuscule part of his brain that is still working so he manages, but just barely, to keep from fucking Blake in the elevator.

They make out in the hallway against their stubborn door that over their time here they've gotten used to. They grind and shift, tongues rubbing languidly together now, the rush of _nownownow_ from in the elevator smoothing out into something less frantic but not any less hot. After long minutes, Blake pulls back, mouth red and swollen and Chris runs his thumb along his bottom lip, Blake sucking it in before nipping at it with his teeth.

"Gotta go in, man, can't fuck in the hallway," Blake rasps out, fingers caught in the belt loops of Chris' jeans and Chris nods, his mouth open as he pants, fumbling to dig the key card out of his front pocket.

The door gives way, scraping against the jamb and Blake pulls Chris towards the bed, sheets and blankets still mussed from the nap they took that afternoon. Blake pushes Chris down onto the covers and starts to strip, ordering Chris quietly but firmly to do the same. He did, never taking his eyes off of Blake's body, lit only by the moon filtering in the window and by the yellow glow of the bathroom light.

When they were both naked, Blake knelt on the bed, slowly crawling up and over Chris' sprawled form, lips slowly dragging across every inch of skin he came across, driving Chris slowly insane. Chris grabbed him by his hot, firm shoulders and dragged him up so he could attack Blake's bee-stung mouth, every inch of their bodies rubbing together slow and sweet.

Chris whimpers into Blake's mouth when Blake reaches down between them and wraps a strong, callused hand around his cock, jacking him slowly, calluses from all his various instruments dragging against the sensitive skin. Chris spreads his legs and pulls back from Blake's kiss, their lips brushing as he speaks.

"Want you t'fuck me," he murmurs and watches in the dim light as Blake's eyes darken and widen. Blake nods jerkily and fumbles the lube off of the night stand before flicking it open. He slicks up his fingers, jostling Chris until his legs are thrown over Blake's shoulders. Blake's kneeling between his legs, chest heaving and body flushed as he slowly but surely stretches Chris open. Chris whines in his throat at the almost-too-good-sweet-oh-god burn that he doesn't think he'll ever get used to as his hands scrabble against the sheets as his body gives way to Blake's fingers.

Chris finally pulls on Blake's wrist, insisting that's enough, his fingers tracing unseeing against the vines and blossoms of Blake's tattoo. Blake nods and wipes his fingers on the sheets before slicking his cock up with a few slow, thorough tugs and a tiny, stifled grunt. He positions himself and slowly, slowly slides inside of Chris, filling and throbbing deep inside until Blake's sleek hips were pressed flushed against Chris.

They started a slow, liquid rhythm, rocking and moaning, flesh dragging and warming under the friction. Chris cupped Blake's stubbled cheeks and pulled him down into a wet, messy kiss, pulling away so he could watch the need and want flare nova bright in Blake's gorgeous eyes. Blake stared back, cheeks flushed as he slowly circled Chris' cock, hand just this side of rough and unforgiving as he stroked.

Their orgasms washed over them between one labored breath and the next, Blake spilling wet and hot in a rush inside of Chris as he groaned. Chris arched, limbs shivering as the sensation poured over him, white-hot and shocking in its intensity, every time. Blake pressed a deep kiss to his lips as they came down and Chris laughed a little into it, so in love in that moment he felt like his chest would burst with it.

They cleaned up after awhile, stumbling around the bathroom together before collapsing into the unused bed in a heap, curled together as the air conditioning kicked on, filling the room with a low electronic hum.

Chris woke the next morning as the sky was just beginning to lighten as he made his way out onto the balcony, breathing deep of the balmy ocean air. A few moments later he heard Blake make his way out and wrap him up in his arms. Blake kissed Chris' ear and nuzzled a little.

"Best vaca ever, yes/no?" Blake murmured voice sleep-rough and infused with affection.

"Definite yes." Chris said, letting himself soak up every minute detail of the moment, storing it away for later.

 

  



End file.
